


Mirrors: Come Back Home

by Future_Memory



Category: Original Work
Genre: Delusions, Empaths, F/M, Hacker, Hallucinations, M/M, Other, Psychological, Romance, Schizophrenia, Stalker, near horror, psychicism, the admiring boyfriend case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Future_Memory/pseuds/Future_Memory
Summary: Romance was something Sally had never experienced. An abusive childhood channels frustrated and depressive energy into 'pretend boyfriends'. Back in April Sally had a hacker she couldn't figure out. Suddenly afterward? She started receiving chocolates and bouquets of flowers from an anonymous source. This character, that she assumes is male, is someone she easily falls in love with without them even bothering to meet her.Enter Jacob Jameson. Upon Divine Appointment, Sally invites Jacob - a homeless individual - to live with her.Slowly, Jameson and Sally begin to fall in love but because of Sally's disconnect, or a big mouthful of denial, as Lionel the neighbor said, she misses the signs. They work together on the Admiring Boyfriend Case and separate. In denial, Sally tells herself Jameson "forgot to come home", when really she knows it's abandonment, and is left with solving the Admiring Boyfriend Case on her own.
Relationships: Sally/Jameson





	Mirrors: Come Back Home

**Mirrors**  
_Come Back Home_

**01 Remembering Tomorrow**  
“And that’s how I remember tomorrow,” I said lovingly to my roommate, of whom I called Jameson, me being the only one who was allowed to call him that. Everyone else got to call him by his first name: Jacob. 

“So Nocturnal Precognizance is a real thing, huh?” He smirked pulling out his end of the wet sheet. It was summer and we were hanging it on the line just out in the back yard. Out of the mess of the house my sister, who was behaviorally and cognitively challenged, it was one thing we had to ourselves since she had wrecked my dryer. Thank the Gods the washer was still intact, lest Jameson grumped all the way to the laundromat. 

Honestly, the guy was my best friend. There wasn’t a day we didn’t see each other. It was infrequently that he’d leave and not come back for three days but he always sent me a text on his free Wi-Fi texting and calling app on his phone. In fact, we’d talk for a long while on the thing — so, it was like he’d never left. Sadly, though even with full bars of Wi-Fi signal the calls were shoddy and were dropped many a time between the two. That was why their preferred mode of communication was through text. 

“Yes — but I’ve not had an experience in a long time,” I had to admit.

“Iz’zat right, Miss Sally?” He flirted with an Eastern Indian accent.

My name is Sally Bailey. Being Pagan, my witch name is _Cailleach Feasa_ — or _The Good Witch_. I often signed my artwork as **S.C.B.** or _Sally Cailleach Bailey _.__

__I laughed heartily as we flipped the sheet over the loosely swinging line — using it to part the sheet in the middle across from where we already folded it. We reached into the hanging bucket and bumped each others’ hands. This part always made me flush just a little, although the past year my emotions and body somewhat separated and I couldn’t connect why I was blushing. I figured I was having mild symptoms of hightened blood pressure due to the physical exertion. I had just gotten out of a psychiatric hospital, too, so I didn’t think much of it._ _

__Because there was nothing wrong with me I refused medication on religious preference. All I had was a little meltdown when my sister was in town before Jameson came into the picture._ _

__Nobody understood that my dead family was speaking to me and I wasn’t Schizophrenic. I felt calmer and happier now that I always felt the company of at least five people in the household. My deceased family kept better company and made me feel loved and wanted more than my living relatives, I tell you what._ _

__Jameson and my sister dated briefly before he realized what her limitations were. He immediately broke it off when he knew he’d get in trouble for taking advantage of the incapacitated. The thought of dating Jameson myself has crossed my mind a few times since he’s lived with me — but I thought it awkward. And besides — I had a secret admirer who left flowers a the doorstep once or twice._ _

__So, I was trying to save my heart for them instead of acting, at least in my opinion, as a slut with her heart between two guys._ _

__Besides, Jameson deserved to be someone’s first choice — not my second. If the admirer weren’t in the picture then Jameson would be my priority. He deserved to be put first and not as my last resort. I couldn’t do that to him, although I had the wish in the back of my heart that it was him who was the admirer. It seemed a little impossible, though, because I’d been getting flowers since April. Jameson showed up in my life in June._ _

__About a week before I ended up in the hospital._ _

__“Any new emails from Mr. Maybe?” Jameson chuckled as he put the clothes pins on the last set of clothes. I picked up the basket before we started walking toward the back door. My white sundress — with the camisole straps — billowed in the wind. The back of it stuck around my form and the skirt blew around a little wildly out in front of me._ _

__It was windy for the end of July. I always joked that with gusts like these it seemed like March. We lived in the Mid-West, after all._ _

__My straw hat nearly blew off because I was carrying the basket, but Jameson caught it and planted his hand over the head of it onto my hair._ _

__“Whoa!” He cried, “That was your Auntie Alma’s hat, wasn’t it? No use in losing it, babe.”_ _

__“That’s absolutely right!” I laughed as he opened the screen door and walked right on into the kitchen._ _

__“Any news on a job opening?” I asked him as we went through the kitchen. The room was more spacious than the rest of the rooms in the house. Which was why I took more pride in taking care of it than any other._ _

__“Eh…” He admitted honestly, “I’ve looked at a few places but no word.”_ _

__“You sure you couldn’t do applications everywhere just to see who bites?”_ _

__“…I’m not good at every job. I have the same stress tolerance problem as you do, Sal. However, being male makes it harder. There’s more pressure on me. I wish I could sit at home and write with you all day but I just can’t. What would that look like to everyone? Besides, how bad is it looking now? I’ve been staying here longer than the lease will allow for a person, let alone a person who isn’t your boyfriend, without informing or asking permission for me to be here.”_ _

__“Don’t you want to be on the lease?”_ _

__“Sally, I’d love to, but you don’t understand. I don’t want to get on the lease until I get a job. Your subsidized leasing agreement will get us both thrown out on the street. I feel bad enough you could wreck your future with these people. It took you a long time to get these benefits, Sal.”_ _

__With a sigh, I placed the basket on the counter top and moved to grab a couple of glasses for us and turned to see he’d went ahead of me to get the pitcher of lemonade out of the refrigerator. He continued: “…Besides, the lease says only a family member can stay for a month without asking formal permission from the landlord to be there. I am not family and have stayed more than ten days. I seriously have left for days at a time so nobody grows suspicious. I don’t think there is any way to get out of this without us being blood relatives.”_ _

__“There is one way…” I watched as he poured my glass first._ _

__“And that is?” He went around me to walk toward the refrigerator again. We forgot to get ice cubes again._ _

__“The rules say that only a family member or a spouse could stay for thirty days without report.”_ _

__“Yeah, and that means?”_ _

__“Do you just want to say you’re my boyfriend so we won’t have any trouble?”_ _

__“Yes. I can say I’m your boyfriend.” There was no hesitation in his response. My heart fluttered slightly, but I couldn’t make the emotional connection. In fact, I’d not felt any hard emotional responses since my breakdown when my sister lived with us — about a week before Jameson came into the picture. I couldn’t cry. I could laugh but not as genuinely. I felt like I was broken. It was only temporary, I thought, and I would stick to that story. The only real emotion I really felt was that I loved Jameson. I loved him more than my own mother — and that’s saying something about my highly matriarchical family. So much that I could cry at the beauty of how happy I was with it — but physical I could not._ _

__The reaction certainly surprised me. Who would really say ‘yes’ without stalling or debating against it? Curious._ _

__However, I missed the point. I didn’t want to make things awkward by acting more giddy about the prospect for it to be true than for the fact we’d save our asses legally. That, and I didn’t want him to think I was obsessed with him. Any time I ever had a crush people claimed the delusional card — I might not look unattractive(but somehow believe it so because of all the outrageous explanations for harsh rejections relating to such). He’d previously told me he wasn’t the admirer and said something along the lines of not being interested._ _

__Was that because he seriously was not attracted to me — or he just didn’t want to get mixed up with my admirer? The one we called Baeus._ _

__I was unsure._ _

__And have been severely depressed now that the mania has settled with high and intoxicating feeling we were in love. I just got out of my last hospitalization and with the right medicine the high has come down. And now I’m sad as shit. That I might not ever see Jameson again. All because in a throe of hallucinations I fucked up major. Like, major._ _

__I’ll go over the pieces of my current emotion — but it was that day that changed the course of a few things. At least, on the timeline I remember. One of my illusions had me convinced I switched timelines often and that I got new results out of each one. My sister Yasmine had me convinced of these things — and then Jameson came along and urged me out of those delusions. However, I still wasn’t well. Because I was thoroughly convinced I was not ill. That I was incredibly ordinary. That nothing could have possibly been wrong with me._ _

__All because Yasmine had convinced me of such. And I believed her._ _

__How wrong was I._ _

__Returning to my memory of that twenty-four hour period — I remember waking up to find the waste bin in the garage to find there were scraps and torn up pieces of trash all over the concrete floor leading a trail outside and spread throughout the back yard._ _

__“Uh — Jameson!” I cried as I darted back through the door and up the stairs leading away from the basement and into the kitchen. “Jameson!”_ _

__“Wh-What is it?” He rushed through and found me on the second landing. I stared at him with severity. He knew something was wrong — as reflected on his face._ _

__“The trash is everywhere. Do you think it was a raccoon?”_ _

__“Let me take a look at this,” he replied and moved behind me down the stairs out through the garage. We went to the open back door of the garage. There was a look of shock on his face._ _

__“I don’t think a raccoon is capable of this —” he started as we followed the line of debris, “This was calculated. Only a human would make such a neat mess.”_ _

__“What do we do?” I asked askance, looking around the yard with fear. My eyes rose to the fence around the yard at a distance that housed a bushel of morning glory vines. We lived in the suburbs. Those sights went to the garden that had been ruined. All the plants that I had planted, the bulbs, the vines, all the underground vegetables and those on vines — had been uprooted and there was no longer food in the dirt bed._ _

__“Call the police, of course.” He replied._ _

__“Who would do this?” My brows furrowed together in fright. My body had frozen behind him, holding his forearm, and gazing at the rest of the yard that surprisingly had not been laid to chaos. The thought echoed through my head weakly as I could hear it in the air to the top corner of my skull. At the time I thought this was completely normal. Like I had thrust part of my soul into the ether to talk to my dead family._ _

__“…You said you had an admirer, right?” He took the hand I had on his arm into his own and led me back into the garage._ _

__“Yeah. But he’s in love with me and would never—”_ _

__Jameson growled, “Do you honestly think he’s still a good guy now, Sally?” It was unusual for him to say the full pronunciation of my name._ _

__“I do! Because—”_ _

__“You’re a fool to still be in love with that dick.” He said coldly as we entered the kitchen from the stairs, “I want you to get your phone and take photos of the mess. I’m calling the police.”_ _

__“But I don’t wanna be alone—” I jumped but was interrupted._ _

__“I’ll watch you through the window and the door is open to the railing into the garage. I can hear you if you scream or struggle. Now do it.”_ _

__Honestly, Jameson being mean to me hurt more than any damage my distant boyfriend could have possibly done to me. A boyfriend I have never met. Not even on the internet. The guy hadn’t even so much as left a trail to reveal his identity. Not even in increments._ _

__With my tail between my legs I slowly grabbed my phone off of the kitchen counter and sulked my way down the stairs._ _

__He took in a sharp breath through his nose and sighed through the same cavity. Oh yeah, he was more depressed than pissed. I knew his reactions better than he thought I did._ _

__At the time I thought that was true. Now, I realize that he knew more about what I knew about him than I initially thought. That was why this memory was painful. And he knew my reactions by key, too, I presently realize. That is why losing the mania didn’t hurt as much as losing him._ _

__As I took pictures of the yard I gazed up at the kitchen window where he stood every so often. Still ashamed._ _

__It was an older house so the windows hadn’t been updated. They had wooden frames and older glass that was clouded by dirt and age. The white paint on them was peeling but the landlord didn’t care about painting them. He’d also told us not to paint them. I reckon by the time we move out — as we had always romanticized — he would upgrade the entire place and gentrify it so we could never afford to move back in nor let people of our income level room to come. The place was nice and had an old world feel. Which was probably why he was comfortable in it. I remember hearing him complain about repairs that took months to happen and the throw the dice method of contacting the landlord who never responded via phone call._ _

__That’s an unimportant story detail, though._ _

__At least for now._ _

__***~*~*~*** _ _

__As he stood in front of the window Jameson held his smart phone up in front of him. He pressed the power button to kick it from sleep then hit the dialing segment of his phone app and started at it for a while. Taking in another breath, he sighed. This was hard. He wanted so much for Sally to be happy and yet… He shook his head. This was her personal safety not a conflict he had within himself about her having an invisible boyfriend. He dialed the emergency call number._ _

__“This is emergency response. Can I get the address of your emergency?”_ _

__Jameson gave it to her._ _

__“And your full name?”_ _

__“Jacob Jameson.”_ _

__“What’s the nature of your emergency?”_ _

__“My roommate seems to have a stalker. This morning we found trash all over the garage floor and out in the yard that was spread out in an orderly fashion. Nothing an ordinary raccoon would do. I found it odd that the pinned lock was damaged, too, meaning that we had an intruder. My bests assumption is that it's some guy who was sending her flowers and candies through the mail and hasn’t yet revealed his identity. I think he's jealous that I'm living with her now so he doesn't have exclusive access to her.”_ _

__“What is the name of your girlfriend?”_ _

__Jameson closed his eyes tightly. This wasn’t the first time people have called Sally his significant other._ _

__With an annoyed sigh, he responded, “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my roommate. Her name is Sally Bailey.”_ _

__“We’ll send over an officer for questioning. Is it bad enough we need to stay on the line?”_ _

__“No. We’ll be fine so long as I’m here with her.”_ _

__“An officer will be out shortly.”_ _

__“Thanks.” He hit the end call button and looked at the background of the app. Then his vision blurred off the phone and returned as he looked down at the white tiles of the kitchen floor. They were so thin that there were corners that were curled up against the bottom wall frame or just missing entirely. Even the surfaces were dirty regardless of how well his roommate mopped. His gaze lifted to Sally on her knees in the dirt bed, lamenting at the loss of her garden. It was the first one she’d ever had, too._ _

___…I’m so sorry about this, Sal.__ _

__Her Nocturnal Precognizance would come in handy right about now. However, he understood that she had the sickness of mind and stubbornly refused treatment believing the inconsistent stories her sister had laid into her mind the last few months. The kind that exacerbated her illness. After this he wanted to tell her to seek treatment but didn’t know how. Even he was against most psychiatric medicine and methods. How would he urge her to get help?_ _

__The reason her real psychic gifts were muddled was because she was without medicine. On the old medicine all those abilities came easily. She was unable to remember the future, at least through dreams, because she couldn’t sleep well or deep enough. It would be real handy if she could remember from the dreams what was to come for them. She’d not had any of her _deja vu flashes_ in a long while. When she did have one was the day they met and she described to him what it was but for some reason couldn’t remember the dream she had of him. _ _

__It was then Jameson knew she was in imminent danger._ _

___…To Be Continued_ _ _


End file.
